Her Past Comes Back

The knock on the door sounded ominous. Checking the peephole, she knew why. There stood Walter, her boss. He flashed his FBI badge at the patrolman standing guard. She doubted this was a social call.

Opening the door she didn’t smile at him. “Walter.”

“Jen.”

“Come in.”

Walter nodded and brought his six foot four inch frame through the doorway.

“Coffee?”

“This isn’t a friendly chat we’re going to have.”

“I didn’t think so, but no reason to forget my manners. Sit.”

He did and took up most of the velour love seat. His usually pressed suit looked rumpled from travel. He flashed a wan smile at her. “I could use some coffee.”

She poured from the pot she’d sipped at for most of the morning. Paper overflowed from the trash can, remnants of her failed attempts at a resignation letter she thought she’d already written.

She wanted to leave the Bureau, but the big changes that would occur scared her.